


Confectionery Delights

by Chronophage



Category: Romantically Apocalyptic
Genre: Friendship, Not much happens plot-wise, Post-Apocalypse, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-18
Updated: 2018-09-18
Packaged: 2019-07-14 02:38:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16031243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chronophage/pseuds/Chronophage
Summary: "Looking back now, I guess it all started with a bag of lollipops." A nonsensical collection of stories in the Dead Zone.





	Confectionery Delights

**Author's Note:**

> I originally wrote this fic for Fanfiction, but have since moved it here now that I have a profile.
> 
> I'm not too sure where this is supposed to take place chronologically. The group is in Paris, they're staying at the Grand Hotel, but Engie's awake and I don't plan to involve the Biomatrix in the story. So, this could be an alternate timeline where Engie didn't go catatonic and Snippy controlled, then lost, the Biomatrix. Or it could take place after the whole moon adventure and they just happen to return to the hotel afterward. On that note, I'm also not mentioning the current storyline on the moon. This kind of takes place in its own pocket of time, independent from what is currently happening in the actual comic. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy, this was a long time in the making.

### 

Chapter 1: Halcyon Days

Upon scavenging and inspecting his newest prize, he looked up at the sky to ensure that karma was not going to be a bitch today and this luck was genuine. When nothing plummeted to flatten him into a mess of blood and broken bones, he felt a modest celebration was appropriate. That manifested itself simply into him hugging the items to his chest and grinning widely because he didn't want to provoke karma any more than he already had.

 _I can't believe it_ , Engie struggled to hold one of the cans in his left hand without dropping the rest that he hugged to his chest with his right arm. _Unopened, barely expired, and not swollen with bacteria! All I have to do is go back to the hotel and use Charles' Geiger counter to test them!_

_If he'll let you, came a mental reply._

Despite this, Engie stuffed the cans into his backpack and tightened the straps, determined to make it back to the base and test them. If Snippy wouldn't let him use the counter, then he would use it when the sniper wasn't looking. He couldn't carry it everywhere with him and would leave it behind at some point when Captain sent him out on a mission.

_Then again, if he's aware that I want to use it, he'll put extra effort into making sure I don't get near it… immature jerk._

Thankfully, Captain and Pilot were Snippy's sources of current continuous grievances and distractions, and so Engie had been demoted to "know-it-all bastard from my past who I will now put all of my effort into ignoring" in Snippy's mind.

_Well ignore me all you want Charles; as long as you acknowledge my right to exist, and I will do so for you in turn, then we won't have a problem._

But it was a problem and a very awkward one at that. The growing hostility between them was so thick and palpable that one could almost taste it. Strangely enough, Captain and Pilot noticed it in their own unique ways. Captain stated that zeer minions "should not be pouting over broken toys of the past" and had insisted Snippy go find Engie a new toy and for Engie to write a thank-you card.

That went as smoothly as either of them could expect, and the day ended with a boot filled with radioactive spiders and a fireproof jacket swaddled around a cinderblock that was almost thrown down a pit.

Pilot was reacting a little more negatively than Captain's jovial response to the problem at hand. He could apparently actually taste the bad feelings in the air, and no matter how much Engie explained to him that such a feat was impossible, the man-child insisted that "the searing flavor of hot metals and most-evil pineapples" made him quite ill both mentally and physically. Pilot tended to spend most of his time with Klauss the concierge, staying away from the penthouse and Snippy and Engie's own comings and goings.

 _Why the pineapple hatred?_ he wondered as he trudged along.

The only evil things he could associate with the fruit were maybe getting pricked by the outer skin or maybe the fact that there was an enzyme in pineapples that tenderized meat, including your tongue: eat too much pineapple and it starts eating you. It seemed logical that Pilot would be frightened of a fruit that could, metaphorically, "bite back."

_Strange thing to be afraid of; I'd be more worried about it being used as a ballistic. I'd rather eat a pineapple and deal with a few mouth sores than get hit in the head with one._

The Grand Hotel and what little majesty it retained loomed into view. Engie crossed the parking lot, pointedly not looking at the beach that defied logic. That was one of the few things he and Snippy agreed upon nowadays: that beach was unnatural. Sometimes the King Crab, "Sand Guardian, Guardian of the Sand" as he had been redundantly labeled, scuttled up through the parking lot and into the back of the hotel property. They had found him relaxing in the pool of alphabet soup one morning and Klauss had gotten very upset, clicking and hissing and waving his slender fingers at the kingly crustacean, pacing along the rim of the pool. Engie had come back downstairs a few hours later to find it gone and still couldn't figure out how Klauss had gotten the beast to move out. First checking that King Crab wasn't currently taking a swim, Gromov rounded the pool and entered the lobby at a jog, not trusting what could lie beneath the plastic letters. He slinked across the lobby as well, not wanting to draw the attention of Klauss. The concierge moved so quietly it was almost impossible to hear him coming unless he was chattering aloud or carrying something in his awkward hands, but the best chance one had in meeting him was in the lobby.

_And I don't want to meet him._

Unfortunately, luck would only smile down upon him in short intervals, due to its overwhelming interest in Captain. Klauss rounded a corner at the other end of the lobby and spotted Engie immediately. A hoarse grunt alerted the engineer that he was no longer alone and he forced himself to acknowledge the gangly concierge.

_Who I put in this situation…_

"Hello Klauss."

**"Hello Doctor Gromov, I trust you are feeling well?"**

"Yes."

 **"Oh,"** Klauss twisted his head and intensely eyed Engie, **"you almost looked as if you were doubled over in pain."**

"I, uh…" What could he say? I was worried I would run into you? Ever since arriving in Paris and being greeted by this ghost of the past, Engie had avoided getting into conversations with Klaus, especially after the DEX happily told him his entire story and Gromov, now clearheaded in comparison to the first time they met, realized his grave, past mistake. He almost wished Klauss would be angry, would scream and hiss and throw things whenever Engie got too close. But he happily tended to all four of them, apparently holding no grudge.

"I… collected some valuables in the wastes. Fragile, y'know?"

Klauss stared at him with those disconcerting eyes. **"There are safes in your room for all your valuables."**

"Really? I've never seen any."

**"I thought I put new ones in. Did the Captain walk off with them again?"**

"What would Captain want with room safes?"

**"I don't know. I saw zee pick one up at the beginning of a day and, at the end, found all of them in a heap on the side of the building."**

It must have been "Celebration of Gravity Day." Why Captain and Pilot chose safes out of all the objects available was anyone's guess.

 _Unless they were reenacting those old cartoons with the talking animals who dropped safes and anvils on each other's heads._ Engie let out a shudder at the prospect of accidently getting within range of the drop zone while those two dimwits caused collateral damage to hotel property.

Klauss twisted his head again and analyzed Engie, forcing the engineer to suppress another shudder, lest he offend the concierge. Klauss was almost like a contortionist with his elongated limbs and neck.

_And to think he was once a man._

_Yeah, I think you had something to do with that,_ his conscience scolded.

 **"Are you cold?"** Klauss asked, his textbox appearing above his head no matter what position he contorted it into. **"I would turn up the heat, but with such large holes in the walls, I fear it would be useless."**

"No, I'm not cold. Just… tired."

Klauss was textless for a moment before straightening himself out— although secretly, out of morbid curiosity, Engie wondered if he could walk around with his neck all knotted and his head upside down.

 **"I shall leave you to your business then."** Klauss smiled widely and started walking out of the lobby.

Engie let out a shaky breath once the concierge had vanished down one of the connecting halls. Klauss was nothing but polite and friendly, but that smile was horrifying. He had seen too many Dead Zone monstrosities give him the same smile and it always meant quite the opposite of what Klauss intended. Engie shuffled over to the staircase, already feeling weary about the long climb up, but he absolutely refused to use the elevator.

_I don't care how much that button assures that it's safe, that screaming metal deathtrap is going to plummet all the way down one of these days— and I will NOT be on it when it does!_

He had to take a rest on the landing of the sixth floor. Sitting with his back against the stair railing, he avoided eye contact with the dust-world behind the thick glass. It made his eyes water and sting just looking at it. There was an anomaly on every floor and he tried his best to ignore each one every time he made this trip.

While passing from the seventh floor to the tenth, Engie pointedly closed his eyes and navigated by touch. Once he had ascended to the tenth, the overwhelming feeling of mystery and desperation would fade. Even the smart button in the elevator did not know what happened to floors eight and nine. Maybe they were still around, maybe they were displaced like the beach, but Engie knew not to press the issue. He wouldn't get any answers anyway.

He finally stumbled onto the landing of the penthouse and shambled down the hall. Usually, everyone was out at this time of day, either in the wasteland or in other parts of the hotel. Unfortunately, Engie quickly discovered that he wasn't alone up there. Charles Snippy was lounging on the couch, looking more comfortable than Engie had ever seen him. He almost looked half-asleep, which wouldn't be surprising, but didn't shift to lie down across the cushions. His goggles were pushed up his forehead and his mask was placed on the side table. Engie stepped carefully around the edge of the room, not wanting to draw attention to himself—

—until he spied a white stick poking out of Charles' lips. _Is that a cigarette?! For G-sakes Charles, I thought you'd be smarter than to take up smoking in a radioactive wasteland!_

But there was no smoke rising from the stick, and Snippy's mouth appeared to be moving around the object. Suddenly, Snippy reached up and grasped the stick, pulling it out of his mouth and revealing a small, red lollipop.

 _Candy?! He found candy?!_ The wave of jealousy that washed over him was parallel to that of a petulant child, but Engie was too emotional to admit how conceited that was, especially for an adult. If Charles had one lollipop, maybe there were more. The sniper had found candy, something Engie hadn't had for such a long time, and he wanted some, G-damn it!

The engineer opened his mouth, but couldn't formulate exactly what he wanted to say. The noise that came out sounded like a cough and drew Snippy's attention to his position. The sniper didn't get up, but he did look a little wary, like he was expecting to be attacked, or at least shouted at. He placed the lollipop back in his mouth, causing Engie to almost feel saddened by its absence.

"Where did you find that?" he finally managed to ask.

The wary expression faded and was replaced by a smirk. "Don't bother going to look for more, I turned that place upside-down."

"So… that's the only one?"

"No, there's more. They've just been moved."

"Well, where are they?"

"I'm-not-tell-ing~"

Engie scowled at Snippy's mocking, sing-song tone. "You know, I once considered this type of behavior beneath you. Maybe befitting Pilot, but not you."

"Yeah? Well here's a rebuttal: I have candy and you don't." Snippy grinned widely, an expression Engie wasn't used to seeing on his face. "Say what you want about me, but complaining about my attitude won't put you in my good graces."

"I don't want to be in your good graces if you're just going to use those lollipops as bribery."

Snippy cocked his head but continued smiling, like he knew something Engie didn't, and that just made Gromov angrier. He stomped off to his sleeping area, trying to ignore Snippy watching him leave, which was difficult to do considering the sniper was up on his knees, bouncing up and down on the cushions.

 _When did he get so childish?! Usually he's more calm, but suddenly he's making fun of me and jumping on the couch?_ Engie slung his backpack off his shoulder and glared at the doorway back to the common area, where the sound of couch springs had settled. _Maybe he's having a sugar high. That would explain the playfulness and the jumping. It's been so long since either of us has had sugar, maybe he's become sensitive to it._

Whatever the reason for Snippy's behavior, it was blatantly obvious that he was unwilling to share his prize. Whether he was only refusing to share with Engie had yet to be seen. Or perhaps he had been unwilling to share with anyone, but would give lollipops to both Captain and Pilot to further anger Engie. That seemed like something he would do, just to see the resulting tantrum.

_What if I tell Captain about you hoarding the candy before you have a chance to offer it? You think you'll get to keep any of it then? If you won't share, then no one will have any!_

Gromov suddenly froze, halting his anger-driven pacing. As soon as the thought had crossed his mind, his rationality kicked in. "Wow," he whispered softly, "when did I turn into a child?"

Despite how infuriating that interaction was, Engie knew that Snippy was in the right. The sniper had found the lollipops on his own, fair and square. He had every right to keep them to himself.

 _If I had found them, would I share?_ He was able to answer his own question with a big, fat "no." _If I can't admit to myself that I would share the candy if I had been the one who found it, then I have no right to be upset when Charles chooses not to._

He took a couple of deep breaths to calm down, then groaned with exasperation when he realized what he would have to do next. It would be so easy to just leave Snippy in his sugary euphoria, but if their relationship was ever going be on friendly terms, or at least less antagonistic, he had to acknowledge that he was wrong and Charles was right. Grumbling quietly to himself, Engie removed his goggles and mask and stepped back out into the common area. Snippy, who had finished the red lollipop and was playing with the leftover stick, immediately turned his attention to Engie as he approached the couch. Neither of them spoke, and the engineer was thankful that Charles didn't look smug; in fact, he looked curious.

"I uh… I wanted to apologize. You were right."

Snippy lifted a brow in genuine confusion— an odd sight to see the actual brow performing the action instead of a goggle-cap, Engie noted.

"I was right? About what?"

"About your candy. It's your choice if you want to share. I shouldn't complain. So… you were right and I was wrong."

The silence was awkward and deafening. Engie repeatedly shifted his weight between legs, waiting for a response, but all Snippy did was stare back. He looked shocked by Engie's statement, but continued being silent. He started playing with the lollipop stick again, bending it in a zigzag pattern. Finally realizing that he wasn't going to get a reply, Gromov turned around and shuffled uncomfortably back towards his room.

"That must have been difficult for you."

Engie stopped and looked over his shoulder. Snippy had stood up from the couch, his hands in his coat pockets. They stared at each other from across the room.

"Um… yeah, it was," Engie admitted. "I get so easily frustrated when things don't go my way, because…well, I'm used to them going my way. And I know my pride can seem intimidating—"

Snippy laughed and rolled his eyes. "Oh please, your ego is so fragile, I could pop it with a butter knife."

"Keep rolling your eyes; maybe you'll find a brain back there!" Engie snapped before he could stop himself.

 _Nice going Alex!_ He scolded himself. You just blew it! Things were going fine and you let your stupid pride get in the way!

Amazingly, Snippy didn't look upset; in fact, he laughed, like he was sincerely amused by the insult made at his expense. He lowered his goggles back over his eyes, the lenses brightening up as they calibrated with his facial expressions, and swiped his mask off the side table. He walked out of the common area, leaving Engie stunned and confused.

_Well, I guess laughter is better than shouting. Yes… much better— that was good!_

He felt oddly pleased by the interaction. The only times he could recall hearing Snippy laugh were either a mocking laughter, usually at the engineer's expense, or a fake laughter produced under threat of some inane punishment from their enigmatic commanding officer or zeer green-eyed lapdog. It was nice to hear genuine amusement; in fact, Engie could feel his own pleasure stirring, a warm feeling in his chest.

 _Positive social interaction for lonely, social creatures._ Being a social animal sometimes had its downsides, especially when one's only companions for said social interactions were aggravating, irritating, and exasperating (in no particular order). Gromov could only hope that Snippy had had the same feeling, and that it would drive him to continue having more positive exchanges.

 _I can do this,_ he told himself. _I can do this._ Engie turned towards the doorway of the room he had claimed, only to come face to face with a pair of large, green, goggle lenses. He shrieked loudly, desperately hoping that Snippy had wandered too far to hear him.

"Don't do that!" he scolded.

Pilot merely stood there, his head turning and jerking about like he had a kink in his neck he was trying to crack. It took a few moments for Gromov to realize Pilot was sniffing, and, at first, he thought that the DEX was upset about something and was crying. But that assumption lost its merit when Pilot suddenly hugged him.

"The smell!" he cheered, painfully crushing Engie until the poor man could hear several of his vertebrae pop. "Redolent! Odiferous! Ambrosial!"

"Okay, Mister Thesaurus! Knock it off!" Engie wheezed. Pilot let go, resulting in Engie slumping into a pile on the hard floor.

"What was that sound?!" Snippy stood in the doorway connected to the hallway. The rest of his face gear was back on, his lenses expressing his concern.

"Me," Engie groaned.

"Oh," Charles visibly relaxed, "that's nothing new."

"Snippy!" Pilot piped up. "The air is cleared of smoggy conflictions!"

The sniper had no idea what Pilot was talking about, but he did so in such an excited and sincere manner that he decided to just roll with whatever was happening. "Ah, I suppose that's good. Smog is… bad for your lungs… yes."

"And hostility is bad for your heart," Engie added, untangling himself and properly sitting up.

"Captain will be so pleased!" Pilot cheered. "The air was so thick with unfriendliness. I couldn't stand such conditions!"

"Are you going to start sleeping up here with the rest of us?" asked Snippy.

Pilot didn't answer the question. He started humming in a high-pitched tone and almost vibrated with excitement. He took off in a full-tilt sprint, almost knocking Snippy down on his way out.

"That was… eventful."

"And painful," Engie grumbled, pressing his knuckles against his back and straightening his shoulders.

"What did he do to you?"

"Almost snapped my spine, but… it was weird." Engie looked up to make eye contact with Snippy. "Not aggressive— he was actually friendly and excited. Still," he struggled to stand up, breath hitching from slight pains, "he doesn't know his own strength. Friendly for him is deadly for us."

"Pretty sure hostile for him is deadly for us," Snippy groused. His hand unconsciously pressed against his sternum, his breathing suddenly growing heavier. He shook himself out of it as quickly as he had fallen in. "So what was that about good smells?"

"Apparently, the bad smells of our inter-personal aggression has cleared up."

Snippy sighed heavily. "Aggression doesn't smell. I don't know why he thinks like that."

"Maybe some of his mental wires are crossed. He's 'smelling,' not 'seeing.'"

"I think a lot of things are crossed in his head. Maybe it's his secret way of telling us we need baths."

"Hey!" Engie snapped. "I don't stink!"

Snippy brushed off the remark. "While I don't doubt that he's capable of that amount of passive-aggressiveness, I don't think insulting us was his intention. He seemed actually happy, and he's been much friendlier ever since the… ahem, incident." Snippy scratched his chest, as if he expected the stab wound to still be there.

 _How did you ever survive that?_ Engie wondered. Memories of the sniper's unnatural movements and bloody visage, accompanied with a large shard of metal sticking out of his ribcage, clouded Gromov's vision. Snippy's head suddenly jerked slightly. He huffed with a miffed tone and quickly left the room for the outside hallway.

 _Why did he do that? Was I staring off in space again?_ Their faces were almost always covered. Sometimes it was difficult to tell if a member of the group was deliberately staring, or one just happened to be in their line of sight but weren't the focus.

 _Distractions._ Seeing as how he was finally alone in the penthouse, Engie returned to his room, remembering his pack full of metal cans. He preferred sorting while the others weren't around as Captain and Pilot tended to peer over his shoulder and get in the way, while Snippy would unthinkingly pick up his self-sorted items and take them to where the rest of their supplies were. He had attempted to organize their various provisions, mostly to keep rubbing alcohol separated from the water, but his efforts were always thwarted. He had caught Pilot several times using the cans and boxes as building blocks, and sometimes Snippy haphazardly scattered miscellaneous items while looking for specific ones.

It wasn't a mentally-engaging task, but it passed the time at least. He managed to get pretty wrapped up in his work, flinching when he heard the telltale sounds of his so-called "friends" returning. Captain was as boisterous as ever, Pilot was incessantly chattering, and Snippy was complaining… so, nothing new. Heaving a sigh through his nose, Engie stumbled to his feet and left the (relatively-speaking) sanctity of his room.

"Knock it off!" Snippy protested as Pilot bounded about like a hyperactive puppy. The sniper's complaints did little to deter his source of annoyance, who brushed off his harsh tone like a piece of lint.

"This is a time of celebration!" Captain announced, wagging a finger at Snippy's attitude.

"Pilot stopped smelling a smell that didn't exist in the first place. I hardly call that a need for celebration; more like a sign of brain damage."

"Well, you are just full of the vinegar today, aren't you?"

"I like vinegar," Engie spoke up. "Flavoring and… and the smell…" he trailed off as the other three stared blankly at him. "Just… a little tidbit about me."

"I propose a party! We shall have a feast with muffins!" Captain announced, continuing on as if Engie never said anything.

"Why muffins?" Snippy asked. "Why not cake? Isn't that what you usually have at a party?"

"Mixing things up," was Captain's indifferent response. "We are the trendsetters!"

"We're the only people here around, anything we do is the trend."

Captain dismissed his comment with a wave of the hand and marched into the master bedroom. Pilot appeared to have heard some unspoken message and didn't follow, choosing to bounce back out to the hall. With the two main sources of his annoyance out of the room, Snippy turned towards Engie and started walking toward the doorway he was still standing in.

Snippy snorted quietly as he passed Engie. "You are so awkward."

"Hey," Gromov snapped back, "I'm trying, alright?" But Snippy didn't seem to be listening; he walked further into Engie's room, softly mumbling about vinegar in an amused tone.

I try and I fail. That's a feeling I don't like.

"Don't sulk." Engie turned at the sound of Snippy's voice. The sniper was bouncing a can between his hands, and even though his mask was on, Gromov was certain he was grinning. "Don't be so full of vinegar. I know how much you like vinegar."

"You're just going to hold that over my head forever now, huh?"

"For a good couple of days at least."

"You're the one full of vinegar," Engie countered.

"My life, at the moment, is all sunshine and lollipops."

 _So he is smiling under there! I was so right!_ His being correct uplifted him, even if it was about something as incredibly minor as guessing Snippy's expression.

"Yeah, vinegar lollipops."

"I know how much you'd like that, yes?" Snippy simpered.

"I have so many regrets."

"You're riled up; go get some air before you say or do something you'll regret," Snippy suggested in a surprisingly gentle tone.

Engie opened his mouth for a retort, then slowly closed it. He didn't want to admit it, but he knew Snippy was right about this. Remove yourself from a situation before making it worse. Stifling a growl of frustration, he attempted to make a dramatic exit by spinning on his heel, but stumbled mid-spin. Before he could slink off with whatever shred of dignity he had left, Snippy spoke up again.

"What are you so angry about?"

Engie stopped, but didn't turn around to face him. "I'm not angry, just… frustrated. I feel helpless and I'm not used to feeling that way. I'm used to being successful, always achieving my goals, overcoming my challenges."

"Mental challenges," Snippy specified. "You've got brains Gromov, but not much else."

"Oh thanks," Engie snapped sarcastically, "that makes me feel so much better."

"You've got brains," Snippy repeated, "so you should know as well as anyone how versatile that is. You're a visualizer; look before you leap and all that fun stuff. You're cautious— or should I say paranoid? Anyway, you like to think through scenarios before acting, but you don't always follow any of what you visualize."

"Does all of this have a point?"

"You're not helpless, just out of your element. Brain over brawn, right?"

"That doesn't help when brawn could squish brains like a bug on a windshield."

"But does brawn know that?" Engie flinched when he heard footsteps behind him, indicating Snippy was stepping toward him. "Collect your thoughts, come back when you can think before you speak."

He wanted to turn around— wanted to face him— but he couldn't. _Does that make me a coward?_ He was already running through a myriad of scenarios in his mind: what he could say, what he could do, what Snippy could do… Until he realized that he was doing exactly as Snippy described. _I'm a visualizer, I paint mind pictures, but I don't act sensibly. Charles read me like a book, something that I can't do in return… and that scares me. I can hypothesize, but I don't know how he'll act; and yet, he always has a response for my own actions._

"Scoot." Snippy gave him a tentative push with the heel of his hand between his shoulder blades. "I can practically see the gears turning in your head."

Engie huffed, not willing to accept full humility quite yet, and shuffled out with his hands in his coat pockets and his shoulders hunched. He managed to exit the penthouse before disaster struck again. Looking back, he wondered if this was karma catching up to him for finding the cans in such good condition earlier in the day. So many things had gone wrong in such a short period of time, and he was forced to ponder whatever it was that he had done to deserve this… until he remembered exactly who ordered the bombardment of Eureka. Score one for karma, and for his lesson in humility.

With a hacking cough, Engie pushed himself up onto his hands and knees, studying the situation he had landed himself in. Pilot was parked right outside the door to their penthouse with a bucket full of chalk, now tipped over and scattered across the portion of floor where the carpet had been ripped up. Pilot had been drawing on the exposed hardwood until Engie had unceremoniously tripped over the bucket and smeared the artwork when he fell. The chalk dust settled, leaving the two to awkwardly stare at each other: Pilot still clutching a shard of pink chalk, and Engie covered in a rainbow of asthma-inducers.

"I uh…" Gromov managed to choke out before scrambling to his feet and sprinting away as fast as he could.

"You have to come back at some point," Pilot whispered in a dangerous tone. His art was ruined now, a polychromatic testament of strengthening bonds now dashed into a smear of kaleidoscopic mess. Frustration bubbling up, he tossed the pink chalk in a random direction and stomped back into the penthouse, ready to plot his revenge.

"Hold up," Snippy hurriedly trotted out to intercept him, "I don't like that tone of walk."

"Things were looking up," Pilot sulked.

"Looking up?" Snippy repeated.

"The smells of hostility!" Pilot explained in condescending manner. "I was creating a grand work that represents the one step forward, but Engie," he spoke scathingly, "has sent us two steps back!"

Snippy peeked out the doorway, spying the mess on the floor shaped in a distinct Gromov-shaped splat. After examining the remnants of chalk dust on Pilot's gloves and jacket, he put two and two together, and began to mentally prepare to prevent the fallout.

"Okay, let's just take a deep breath and calm down."

Pilot crossed his arms and projected all the signs of someone pouting without actually showing the facial expression. "Doctor Engie is not a shoe!" he stated, slipping back into his old collection of insults. "He is less than a shoe!"

"Hey now," Snippy interjected, trying to dissolve the situation before fire and sharp things got involved. "You don't mean that."

"I do!" Pilot insisted. "He's a dirty flip-flop! A chewed-up, slobbered boot! He's a Croc!"

"Oh, that's insulting," Snippy admitted.

"He's…" Pilot's shoulders shook as he struggled to come up his next insult. "He's a fluffy slipper! Softer than a normal shoe, but not as useful!"

"Yeah, that pretty much sums him up. You feel better now? Blew off some steam?"

"No," Pilot whined. "The steam is contained. It boils my insides. I am a kiln."

"Okay," Snippy exhaled, grasping for some control of the situation. "Let's play a game."

Pilot immediately perked up at the suggestion. It was amazing how fast he could switch emotional states, but Snippy passed it off as some sort of brain damage— the same sort of brain damage that caused Pilot to believe he could smell and taste hostility. Now that he had Pilot's attention, he needed to act quickly. The aviator had the shortest attention span Snippy had ever seen. If he desired to avoid the inevitable conflict involving Pilot's short bursts of ridiculous craftiness and Gromov's tendency to get lost in his own thought process and forget where he presently was, then he needed something to draw Pilot's focus away from his revenge plots. A solution began to fabricate itself in Snippy's mind as he retrieved and his backpack and desperately rifled through it.

"This is my friend; his name is String-Doll." He had found his new little friend in the same location where he had scrounged up the lollipops. It was a little doll made up of black yarn wrapped around a wire frame with white buttons for eyes. It was misshapen and a bit lumpy in areas where the yarn had been wound too many times, but there was something endearing about the yarn doll that made him grab it and bring it back. He wasn't sure what it was supposed to be. It resembled a cat with its two little ears and long tail, but the main body was elongated and the bottom legs were short, causing him to believe it was a weasel of some sort.

"String-Doll likes to play hide-and-seek, but I'm not any good at the game. He wants to know if you would play with him."

Pilot tilted his head, scrutinizing the little yarn doll. "I see no open conversation box. Why isn't he asking me?"

"Umm," Snippy mentally scrambled for an answer, "he's… shy. That's right. He's very shy, and not too good at making new friends. So he asked me if you wanted to play, y'see?"

Pilot didn't look that convinced. He crossed his arms again and leaned back on his heels. A feeling of unease began to churn in Snippy's stomach. If this didn't distract Pilot, he needed to come up with something else fast. Suddenly, the aviator shot forward and snatched String-Doll from Snippy's hands.

"He says he prefers tag, but isn't a very fast runner," Pilot stated. "Hide-and-seek it is!" He haphazardly shoved String-Doll back into Snippy's hands. The sniper struggled for a moment, juggling the doll between his hands before firmly clapping it between both palms.

"You have been tasked to help him hide!" Pilot explained.

"Okay…" Snippy stared down at the doll, contemplating if it and Pilot were actually having a secret conversation that was hidden from his comprehension. "No peeking."

"I know the rules," Pilot retorted.

"Pretty sure everyone knows the rules."

Pilot shrugged in a surprisingly nonchalant way, and then obediently covered his eyes. Snippy looked around the common room, trying to find a proper hiding place. He paced around, considering different locations before discarding each option. He rushed out the door and down the hall, almost crashing straight into Engie when he turned the corner.

"Whoa!" Gromov took a step back to keep his balance. "Is something wrong?"

"Quick, hold this!" Snippy pulled Engie's hood off his head and shoved String-Doll inside.

"What is it?! What is it?!" Engie panicked, unsuccessfully trying to grab his hood hanging off his shoulders. His fright overtook him and he flung his coat to the floor in a puff of rainbow-colored dust, backing up against the wall.

"Oh wait," Snippy remembered, "I'm trying to keep him away from you. That probably wasn't the best hiding place then."

"You're not very good at this game." Pilot had appeared behind him, having heard the commotion and assumed that the game was temporarily halted.

"A momentary lapse in judgement," Snippy replied.

"What is going on?" Engie whimpered, timidly nudging his jacket with the toe of his boot.

"Hide-and-seek," said Pilot. He suddenly grew very still, and Snippy feared the plot being strategized in a simple fool who could be surprisingly cunning. "You're playing now!" Pilot announced, pointing at Engie.

"I don't want to play!" Engie whined. "What did you put in my jacket?!"

Pilot knelt down and fished String-Doll out of the discarded jacket. "I would think that someone who is as clumsy at friendly games as you are would love a chance to play with a fellow shyster," he said in an innocent-yet-suspiciously-sounding tone.

"I'm pretty sure you're using that word incorrectly," said Engie.

"String-Doll wants to play hide-and-seek," Snippy started to explain, "but he's really shy—"

"Shyster doesn't mean 'shy!'" Engie interrupted. "And are you calling me shy?"

"His words!" Snippy jabbed a thumb at Pilot, trying to displace blame. "And, I mean… c'mon, you kind of are."

"Just because I don't want to socially interact all the time doesn't mean I'm shy!" Any further arguments out of the engineer's mouth were halted by Pilot reaching out and clamping his hands on both of Engie's shoulders.

"Count," he said in a tone that had a hint of finality to it.

"…Okay."

Pilot manually steered Engie back to the penthouse, leaving Snippy to pick up the discarded parka and fruitlessly attempt to shake off the chalk dust. Engie found himself pushed forcefully down to sit on the couch.

"Start counting."

"To what number?" Engie asked.

"I'd say about fifty," Snippy suggested as he walked through the door to rejoin them, flinging the parka across the room and successfully wrapping it around Engie's head. "It should give us enough time to find a suitable spot to hide."

"You're playing too?" Gromov asked after floundering to unwrap his jacket from his face and getting a Velcro strap stuck on his mask filter.

"Might as well. It could be interesting."

"Fine," said Engie, "it should be simple enough to find you two."

"Three," corrected Pilot. "Me, Snippy, and String-Doll."

"Snippy said those words before. What the hell is a 'String-Doll?'"

Pilot pulled the yarn creature out of the sleeve of his jacket and waved it in Engie's face with such enthusiasm that Gromov pressed himself back into the couch cushions.

"You expect me to find that thing? Have you not noticed the world is practically grayscale?"

"Okay then, let's establish some rules," Snippy suggested. "String-Doll must be placed where his eyes are visible. White buttons against a black background should make it easier to find him. Also, this game is restricted to the hotel property. No going beyond; otherwise, we'll never find each other. We play until the three of us have each been 'it.' The first to be found in each round is the new 'it' for the next round."

"You've put a lot of thought into this," said Engie. "But what if the last to be 'it' is never the first to be found? We'll keep playing forever!"

"I'm okay with that."

"So am I!" Pilot chirped.

Engie narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "I don't like it when you two are scheming together. What are you planning?"

"I mean," Snippy shrugged nonchalantly, "we both know you'll always be found first when it's your turn to hide. As for us, well, you have someone who perfectly blends in," he gestured to Pilot in his all-black outfit, "and someone whose job used to involve being a master at hiding from hostiles."

"… I hate both of you."

"Count," Pilot ordered.

Despite his reluctance, Engie covered his eyes and bowed his head. "One.. two… three…"

Snippy and Pilot scrambled to make it out the door first. String-Doll was tossed into the air at some point to decide who would hide him. Snippy snagged him in midair and took off down the stairs, leaving Pilot behind. A strange sort of eagerness energized him to find a genuinely good hiding place. Some would have passed all of this off as childish, but he felt cheerful playing a children's game. No annoyances, no Dead Zone anomalies, no dealing with Captain— just as afternoon of playing hide-and-seek.

He made it down to the lobby with the assumption that Engie had stopped counting by this point. He looked down at String-Doll in his grip and contemplated a good place to put the doll where Engie would be able to easily see him. The fallen chandelier glinted through the gloom. All the white, glass, crystals might make it difficult to see String-Doll's white button eyes, but since they didn't reflect, it could be a suitable place. Snippy stretched and placed String-Doll near the top. When he stepped back to regard his choice, it looked like the little yarn doll was seated upon a throne of crystals.

_Now I need a place to hide._

Klauss was dutifully standing behind the front desk, watching the sniper dart around the entire time. His amused clicking drew Snippy's attention to him. Snippy's blue goggles lit up with a realization and he ran toward the desk, clambering over the top and stooping into the open space beneath.

"If anyone asks: I'm not here."

Snippy pushed aside some boxes of moldy papers and squeezed himself into the corner behind a small filing cabinet. He was still able to peer out at Klauss's stilt legs. The lobby boy appeared to be shifting his weight back and forth, as if he were pondering something, before he crouched and his maw was under the desk as well. Snippy was still a little wary of the creature who greatly resembled the other monstrosities he had been forced to run from for years, but Engie had confirmed the Klauss was harmless and could only communicate through mind-texts. On that note, the sniper realized that Klauss was probably trying to speak with him at that moment, most likely trying to figure out what was going on.

"Hide-and-seek," he explained.

Klauss continued to stare at him, and Snippy began to worry he had done something wrong, before the concierge reached out with his spindly fingers and pushed one of the boxes closer to Snippy, trying to aid in improving his hiding spot. At the distant sound of footsteps on the staircase, Klauss withdrew his head and stood back up to his full height.

Engie strode out into the lobby, muttering to himself as he glanced about. He made fleeting eye contact with Klauss, but broke it and started walking circles. He continued muttering softly, sometimes drawing invisible pictures in the air in front of him.

"Start at the bottom and work your way up. Prevent them from moving without notice. Trap them higher and higher until they have nowhere else to go." Engie stopped mid-stride once he spied String-Doll sitting on his glass throne. He let out a small snort of laughter and walked up the small staircase to lean over the banister and pluck the doll from the chandelier. "Okay, one of them is here," he concluded, looking at the doll as if it had just told him he won the lottery.

Klauss started nervously shifting his weight between legs again, drawing Engie's attention. The engineer tucked String-Doll into one of his jacket pockets before confidently wandering toward the front desk, he hands clasped behind his back. "Klauss, you wouldn't have happened to have seen Pilot and Charles around?"

**"…They're not here."**

Engie crossed his arms, not the least bit convinced. "Oh, are you sure about that?"

**"…Yes."**

"Now, hypothetically speaking, if I were to send a query to the front desk about their locations and whether a certain lobby boy saw them passing by, you would have to answer it, yes?"

**"…Yes. But they're not here."**

Engie casually stepped around the side of the desk. "You wouldn't mind if I took a quick peek under here, would you?" He crouched before Klauss could respond and yanked a box out, falling onto his backside in the process.

Snippy curled more tightly into his hiding space, silently cursing the fact that he couldn't hear half of the conversation going on right now. _This is karma, total karma. I bragged about being good at hiding and he's going to find me instantly!_

"Got you!" Engie grabbed Snippy around the ankle and the sniper could only groan in response. He uncurled and started scooting forward, Engie keeping a firm grip the entire time and even pulling a little to get him moving faster. "What was that about being a master at hiding?" he said smugly.

"Shut it, vinegar lollipops," he shot back, but Gromov was too invigorated to care.

"So," Engie looked up at Klauss, who was towering over them, "'they're not here,' huh?"

**"You asked if I saw Mister Hatchenson _and_ Mister Snippy. I did not. I only saw Mister Snippy."**

"What did he say?" Snippy asked. "Because I can practically sense the smugness disappearing."

"I have been humbled," Engie admitted. "He tricked me with semantics."

"Not much of a trick if you still found me." He shrugged, "Oh well, so I'm guessing you found me first?"

"Yes, now help me find Pilot." They both stood up, Klauss shuffling back to allow them room. "We need a plan. The downsides of letting that fool play is that he'll look at everything from a different perspective. He'll likely find a place that we wouldn't have ever considered hiding ourselves."

 **"There is a basement,"** Klauss interjected, although Snippy only knew that due to Engie suddenly snapping his head toward the concierge. **"It is mostly for storage."**

"Where is it?"

"Where's what?" Snippy asked, but his question went unanswered and he was forced to chase after Engie.

Gromov rushed through the twisting hallways, following some invisible mental map, before sliding to a halt in front of a foreboding-looking doorway. Snippy stopped in an instance, eying the door suspiciously. "That… doesn't look friendly."

Engie shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant despite his obvious unease. He gripped the handle and pulled. The door opened a few inches, but refused to go further. Engie pulled harder, the door complaining with an unyielding squeal of rusty hinges. He continued pulling, even putting his foot up on the wall, before flying back after yanking the handle clean off.

Snippy let out a howl of laughter despite Engie colliding with his legs and nearly knocking him over. "I'm sensing a theme today: Gromov falling flat on his ass."

"Shut up," Engie grouched, sitting up and glaring at the obstinate door. "If this door was shut tight, then I don't think Pilot went through it."

"He's a lot stronger than you," Snippy replied, stepping over Engie. He wedged his shoulder into the small opening and pushed off the doorframe, managing to open the door a few more inches. It wasn't much, but it was enough for him. Snippy squeezed through, vanishing into the inky blackness.

Engie got to his feet, warily watching and listening for any sign of Snippy being in danger. He flinched when a blue-lensed face poked back through the doorway.

"Are you coming?"

"Into the black abyss?" Engie nervously laughed. "No thank you."

"But you're 'it.'" Snippy retorted. "You're supposed to find the other players."

"You're 'it' in the next game, why not get a head start?"

"Because the last time I checked, this is still this game." He reached out and grabbed Engie by the rim of his hood and yanked him forward. Engie ran into the door in the process, but begrudgingly squeezed through.

"At least our lenses light up," said Snippy.

"But they don't cast light," Engie specified, "at least not that far. At most, they alert us to where each other is, but they don't illuminate anything or give us night vision."

"Seems like a design flaw."

"Unless Pilot's covering his head, it'll allow us to find him."

Engie gasped when Snippy's blue lenses suddenly dropped lower. He reached out, trying to grab him but smacked his hand into the side of Snippy's head instead.

"Okay: ow; second: we're standing on a staircase. I'm supposed to drop down."

"Please don't leave me," Engie whimpered.

"I knew you were the clingy type," he griped. Engie could hear the annoyance in his voice, but was genuinely surprised to feel Snippy's forearm suddenly meet his hand. He gripped it tightly and pressed himself closer to the sniper.

"If you cause us to fall down these stairs, I'm gonna kill you," Snippy grumbled. Progress was slow, and the lack of sight made it difficult to tell how far down they were going. Snippy felt the edge of each step with the toe of his shoe until he couldn't find the edges anymore. "I think we're at the bottom," he spoke, feeling Engie flinch so hard Snippy almost elbowed himself in the stomach with his own arm.

"Do you have to speak so loudly?" Engie hissed.

"This is my normal speaking volume. Why are you whispering?"

"You don't know what's down here."

Snippy sighed and reached out with his free arm to touch the wall. He took a step, but found his distance impeded by Engie, who awkwardly shuffled beside him. He tried to pull his arm free, but the engineer just gripped tighter, almost cutting off the circulation. Their path was suddenly hindered by a waist-high crate.

"Pretty sure my pelvis is bruised," Snippy complained. "There's something about this set-up that isn't working. It may have something to do with the fact that I'm down an arm."

"Lights on!" Engie suddenly shouted, spooking Snippy. A dim light overhead suddenly switched on. It flickered weakly, but illuminated the basement enough that they could make out the dim shapes of boxes and furniture.

"Why didn't you do that before?"

"I didn't know if it would work," Engie sheepishly admitted. He let go of Snippy's arm, although with great reluctance.

"Here," Snippy passed a long, skinny object to Engie. "Poke around with this."

Engie gave the object a curious once-over, realizing it was a coat rack. He started jabbing it into dark spaces while Snippy more boldly shoved objects aside. "I don't think he's here," Engie concluded.

"Well, this has been fun," Snippy muttered.

"I thought you were enjoying the game?"

Snippy's response was cut short by the side of footsteps above them. The two men looked at one another before dashing for the staircase. They wedged themselves back through the door, Engie giving a quick shout of "light's out!" over his shoulder, and raced each other back to the lobby. They slammed to a halt at the sight of someone they weren't currently looking for.

"Where is zee fire?" Captain asked, giving them a quizzical look.

"No fire, just looking for Pilot," Snippy responded.

"For what reason?"

"Um…" Snippy trailed off, unsure of what Captain's reaction would be to his minions playing games.

"Training exercise," Engie cut in. "Search and rescue."

"Ah, how nice to see all of you working so hard," the enigmatic figure commented, "but we are on vacation. There's no need to be all serious-ish."

"…okay," said Snippy. "I guess we'll… go find Pilot and tell him that."

"You do zat. And by zee way…" Zee looked both of them up and down. "How colorful you two are being today. What a way to brighten zee décor. My good man!" Captain called out to Klauss, still standing dutifully behind the front desk. "I am in need of your services."

Klauss clicked and nodded his head, stepping out from the desk and walking over. With Captain occupied, Snippy and Engie bid a hasty retreat to the stairs, before their commanding officer changed zeer mind and gave them an actual mission. They paused on the first landing and, in unison, looked down at their jackets. Engie's parka was still covered in chalk dust, and given how close he had pressed against Snippy, the sniper's black and white jacket was now smeared with pastel pinks, greens, and oranges.

"How… colorful," said Snippy.

"Looks like vomit," said Engie.

"I honestly did not know how that was going to go." Snippy patted his arm, trying to shake off some of the dust.

"It seems Captain doesn't care if we play games," Engie noted.

"Not as long as we pass it off as a training exercise. Good excuse, by the way."

"Yeah well," Engie sighed heavily, eying the stairs with distaste, "I feel that our search and rescue skills leave much to be desired."

The climb up was slow and arduous, but their staunch refusal to take the elevator left them with little option. By the time they had reached the penthouse floor, both had collapsed on the landing with intent of taking a good, long rest. That is… until they saw a certain green-goggled aviator freeze up at the sight of them and then take off running down the hall.

"Get back here, you half-wit!" Snippy shouted, sprinting after him while Engie struggled to keep up.

Pilot darted from doorway to doorway, leaping over decorative tables with black, dead flowers in useless vases, and dodging all of Snippy's attempts to grab him. The excitement came to grinding halt when Pilot turned out of a doorway only to trip and fall over the prone form of Engie on the floor. There was much yelling and struggling, and Snippy was forced to untangle the two after they tried and failed.

"Found you!" Engie crowed triumphantly before tenderly rubbing his ribs.

"Where were you hiding?" asked Snippy.

"I'm not gonna tell you," Pilot said in a tone that implied he thought Snippy was incredibly stupid for asking. "You'll just use it against me!"

"But… you were up here the whole time, right? We lost track of each other on our way out the door. And I know you didn't come downstairs with me—"

"Not. Telling."

"Smart move," Engie spoke up, "he's 'it' this round."

Pilot grabbed Snippy by the shoulders and steered him back to the penthouse, just as he had done with Engie. Snippy found himself shoved into the coach cushions, but managed to keep upright despite the rough handling.

"Do we need to come back here every single time?" he asked.

"Count," Pilot ordered, not bothering to acknowledge the question.

Since his query had been brushed off as insignificant, Snippy obediently covered his eyes and started counting. He listened carefully at the sound of rapid footsteps as they grew gradually quieter, indicating his targets had run off. He was tempted to stop counting and go after them right away, before they could find a good hiding place, but chose not to. He wasn't a cheater, not even at hide-and-seek. So he stayed put and counted all the way to fifty at a nice, even pace.

"Ready or not, here I come!"

From what he knew already, he was sure that Engie wouldn't be hiding anywhere too dark, cramped, or scary. The engineer would likely rely on his logic in choosing a hiding place, but would overthink every hypothetical involved and possibly slip up. Besides, Snippy also had the option of scaring him out, something he couldn't do for Pilot.

 _Okay, I heard both of them leave._ With that thought in mind, he headed out the door, suspiciously eyeing anything that looked out of the ordinary. The hall had previously been roughed up from his attempts to catch Pilot, so he studied the knocked over furniture for any signs of having been pushed aside, or maybe accidently kicked or tripped over in one's rush to find a good hiding place in the limited amount of time. He mentally kicked himself for not paying closer attention earlier to how the mess looked before. With little else to go on, he started opening doors. Some of the doors led to other rooms: some simple, some suites. Other doors revealed themselves to be storage closets, which he nearly tore apart, then felt bad for Klauss in having to clean up after them and neatly put everything back. He was in one of the suites when his first breakthrough struck him. Literally…

With the room nearly turned upside down, Snippy groaned and leaned back against the open door. Something suddenly fell on his head, causing him to yelp and instinctively reach for a weapon that wasn't there. He looked down at the object on the floor and realized (with a little affectionate joy) that it was String-Doll. He stooped to pick the doll up, gently wiping some dust of its body.

"Who put you on top of the door?" he asked, fully aware he wasn't going to get an answer and was thinking out loud.

 _Who was the last person to have String-Doll?_ He mentally rewound and realized, unless the doll had been passed off, that it had been Engie. So, this raised the possibility that Engie was close by. Unless, he decided to learn from Snippy's mistake and didn't hide near where he had placed String-Doll.

 _So he might be near, he might not._ Snippy wedged his arm between a dresser and the wall and pushed the piece of furniture over. It slammed loudly against the floor, echoing throughout the top story of the hotel. He listened intently, trying to hear any sounds of yelping or whimpering, or maybe even a scramble of someone trying to panic and run. There was nothing.

With little choice, he continued downstairs, passing all the other floors that were blocked off and impossible to access. He touched down in the lobby, casting a quick glance at the front desk and noting that Klauss was no longer there, having been sent on some sort of errand by Captain. Snippy checked under the desk anyway, just to be sure, even though he knew Engie was too smart to use it as a hiding spot. He did return to the basement door, but it hadn't been moved from where he and Engie had left it. Even though Pilot could squeeze through as they had done, he decided to leave it be. His wandering took him to the back portion of the hotel property. It was eerily quiet throughout the property, the sloshing of the alphabet soup in the pool was louder than ever—

"Hang on," he spoke aloud, breaking the silence.

The pool water was sloshing? But it was always calm, an uninterrupted doldrum of water and keyboard keys. Yet there it was, a gentle rippling back and forth, meaning that something had disturbed the surface. Snippy crouched down on his hands and knees, crawling close enough to the edge of the pool that he could peer into the water, but still far enough that he could flee if it turned out to be the King Crab again. Stuffing String Doll into his pocket, he touched the surface of the water, trying to swipe some of the keys out of the way. A dark object suddenly shot up out of the water, knocking him back as he yelled and kicked. Pilot hauled himself out of the pool and rolled onto the ground, a large puddle forming as rivulets ran off him.

"You were hiding in the pool?!" Snippy shouted in disbelief. "How long were you under there?!"

"I lost count," said Pilot. "I passed the time by counting the minutes, but you were taking too long, so I counted the minutes backward to see if you would speed up. Then I counted forward again, then backward, then I stopped because time was getting angry at me for not deciding between a stopwatch and a countdown."

"You were holding your breath that entire time?" Snippy asked.

"Yeah," Pilot nodded, offering no explanation for how he did so, or any indication that he was even telling the truth. He pushed up to his hands and knees and shook himself somewhat like a dog, covering Snippy in a spray of water.

"Knock it off!" the sniper complained.

"But we're water-proof!" Pilot responded, holding his arms out so that Snippy could see that his clothes were nearly dry.

"Come on, we still have Gromov to find."

"You have Engie to find," Pilot specified. "You're 'it.'"

"What, so you're not going to help? I helped Gromov find you!"

"That was your choice, and, in the end, Engie was the one who caught me."

"You tripped over him."

"I will follow you, but you need to be the one that finds him," Pilot stated firmly.

 _Fine, fair enough. Now, where would someone like Gromov hide? He's afraid of dark places, afraid of heights, might not be too keen on someplace too confining._ He could hypothesize all day, but that wouldn't get him any closer to finding Engie. Pilot held true to his word of following. Snippy ran off without a word, and after only a small noise of surprise, Pilot caught up with him. There were many rooms and facilities on the ground floor, making it the general area where any of them would choose a hiding spot. Since he had already found Pilot, and taking into consideration Engie's cowardice, Snippy ruled out the basement. They began their search in the kitchen, which was surprisingly still in good condition.

The kitchen was huge, with long countertops, two ovens, a stovetop with eight burners, three sinks, countless drawers and cupboards, a refrigerator that stretched all the way to the ceiling, a walk-in freezer, and a pantry that was as large as one of the bedrooms upstairs. Unfortunately, the freezer, fridge, and pantry completely lacked food, having been cleared out long before their arrival to the hotel. Klauss had mentioned, through Pilot, some very rude guests who were banned from the hotel premises had been responsible, but Snippy wasn't too sure about Pilot's translation. Keeping Klauss in mind, the duo searched the kitchen without making a huge mess. The freezer door was half-frozen shut and needed both Snippy and Pilot to open it; however, Snippy realized, upon opening it and finding it empty, that he should have realized Engie wouldn't have the strength to open it alone. Nor would he be foolish enough to actually hide somewhere he couldn't be found in time and freeze to death. Pilot was searching in the ovens, climbing on counters to look on top of cupboards, and even looked in a jar that was no bigger than his head. Snippy was being a little more sensible, searching in the pantry, under the sinks, and the larger cupboards that were big enough for a grown man to lie down in. Their search turned up nothing, and so they moved on. The other facilities included laundry, the dining hall, a health spa with locker room, and a break room for employees. Despite Pilot actually joining in with more fervor, they still couldn't find Engie. By now, Snippy was running out of ideas and dreaded the possibility that Engie might have walked into some unruly creature's nest and had gotten eaten.

"No," Pilot said, "we would have heard yelling."

That was true.

"Okay," Snippy sighed, starting to feel a little stressed. "Let's go back upstairs."

Pilot tilted his head towards the ceiling, as if he could hear what was occurring dozens of floors up. He didn't speak, but obediently followed when Snippy started towards the stairs. The climb up was grueling as always, and Snippy was beginning to regret not restricting the game to the top floor instead. But, then again, where would the challenge be? Working together, he and Pilot went through the rooms again. Snippy paid extra attention to the room he had found String Doll in. Although he found no trace of Engie, he did lift the dresser back into its previous position. He took one side of the hall while Pilot took the other, and they eventually met up back in the penthouse.

More stress began to weigh down on Snippy. _Why did I choose this game? Pilot almost drowned himself in the pool and Gromov might be dead. The last thing we needed to do was split up. Gromov was right, we don't know what hiding around here!_

"Engie's good at hiding," Pilot said innocently, not noticing Snippy's anxiety. "I didn't think he'd be good at this game."

"Yeah, so good that… we can't find him… at all," the sentence came out a little shaky. "Maybe he fell through a hole in the floor, maybe he tripped and flew out the window, maybe he got wedged somewhere and his voice is being muffled so we can't hear him."

"Engie is not a mole, a bird, or…" Pilot tilted his head. "What kind of animal gets stuck a lot?"

"I don't know. Cats used to get in bad situations a lot if old memes are anything to go by."

"Hmm, Engie is fluffy. So are cats. Engie is a cat, stuck up a tree, meowing for a ladder to come free him from his mistake."

"Gromov!" Snippy shouted, a little frantic. "Where are you?! Olly-olly-oxen-free!"

The sound of faint laughter drew them into one of the bedrooms, where Engie was crawling out from under the bed.

"You've got to be kidding me," Snippy choked out.

"Occam's Razor," Engie stated proudly. "Sometimes the simplest answer is the correct one. I chose the simplest hiding spot because I figured you wouldn't think that someone like me would choose it. Someone like me would overanalyze and try to find the most complicated place to hide. However, there's no better place than right under your nose."

"You simplified your hiding spot, but overcomplicated your reasoning for why you did."

"And yet, I'm not 'it' again."

"Very well," Snippy gave a few sarcastic claps, "I applaud your efforts." He stopped mid-clap when a thought occurred. "Hang on, I heard both of you leave."

"I had to go hide String-Doll," Engie explained. "I had a temporary hiding place; once you passed by, I came back here."

"So under the bed was your intended hiding place?"

Engie nodded. "I also figured that you would be deceived if you heard both of us leave the penthouse. With you convinced that neither of us were here, it provided better conditions for me to remain hidden in such a simple area."

"Okay," Snippy stopped him before he could continue, "I don't need to see the flow chart of hide-and-seek logic. Last round: Pilot, you're 'it.'"

The DEX seemed surprisingly okay with the fact that he had lost the round. He sank down into the couch cushions, covered his eyes, and began counting aloud. Snippy was determined to keep an eye on Engie. He wouldn't admit it, but he had felt incredibly relieved when Gromov had crawled out from under that bed. All the terrible possibilities of what could have happened to him had vanished once he saw those orange lenses. He hadn't even cared that Engie had laughed at him in triumph of having won the round. He did, however, refuse to voice this sentiment.

"Why are you following me?" Engie asked.

"I'm not, this is the only way downstairs."

Pilot was a faster runner than they were, so they assumed he had finished counting when they arrived at the ground floor. It was here that they split up, rather reluctantly on Snippy's part. Unfortunately, he and Pilot had completely searched each of the facilities quite thoroughly, so he was left with attempting to find someplace they had managed to miss and hope Pilot wasn't drawn immediately to it. He found his answer in the kitchen by complete accident. He skidded on the linoleum floor and flung his hand out to the wall for balance. It landed on a large metal sheet on the wall, a hollow thud ringing out.

_This… there's a space behind this._

He pried at the bottom of the sheet, surprised when it slid up with only a couple rattles of metal on metal. It was a dumbwaiter, a large enough space to place many meals on fancy plates to be carried up the floors of the building. Or a large enough size for himself. He quickly glanced around, spying several pots hanging from a rack above an island countertop. He stuffed String-Doll into one of the pots and rushed back to the dumbwaiter. Snippy slid in backward, tucking his legs to his chest, and guided the door back down without a sound. It wasn't the most comfortable hiding place, but it wasn't somewhere that he and Pilot had searched before. He hadn't even been aware that this was here. A faint shout caused him to tense up. He almost felt compelled to leap out of the dumbwaiter and find the source, but managed to stop himself as he began to uncurl his legs. It hadn't sounded like it was in distress, and there was no screaming following it. He assumed that meant that Engie had been found, but was not in danger. He was next, but he did allow himself to feel a bit of smug-based joy that he had technically already won the last round. He heard a voice approaching and immediately placed it belonging to a complaining Engie. Two pairs of footsteps echoed off the linoleum floor, but only Engie was speaking.

_Is something wrong with Pilot? Usually you can't get him to shut up._

There were multiple clanging sounds, and the familiar sounds of cupboards and drawers being opened and shut. He held his breath and did his best not to move, which was difficult considering he was pushing his weight back on his tailbone and his seating wasn't the most comfortable in the world. The dumbwaiter door suddenly flung upward and he was met with Pilot violating his personal space. "Found you!"

Snippy was unceremoniously dragged out and ended up a heap on the floor. Engie crouched down and helped him sit up, even patting his head to make sure he hadn't landed on it.

"How did you do that?" Engie demanded at Pilot. "You found us in under five minutes."

"You were barely hiding," Pilot replied.

"I was inside a locker! You walked straight up to the one I was in. You didn't attempt to open any others."

The two continued to argue, but Snippy was abruptly aware of another figure in the kitchen with them. Klauss was towering over the three of them, and he must have alerted his presence to Pilot and Engie via mind text because they both stopped talking and looked at him simultaneously.

**"I have been instructed to inform you that your attendance is requested upstairs."**

"By who?" Engie asked. _As if I actually need to wonder._

**"Zee Captain. You are to prepare the celebratory feast of friendship."**

Engie groaned, but Pilot rushed out, a spring in his step revealing his excitement. Snippy and Engie were left to follow more slowly, and ponder the outcome of the last round of hide-and-seek.

"How did he find us so fast?" Engie wondered.

"He probably sniffed us out, what with all this talk about how he can smell things that aren't really there."

"But… he found String-Doll as soon as he walked in." Engie held up the black yarn doll. "Didn't look around or anything. He walked straight to that one hanging pot and pulled it out. Like I said, I was in a locker in the locker room. He came directly to mine and didn't even bother opening any of the others. How did he know?"

"Maybe he heard us," Snippy suggested. "Heard us breathing, or heard the sound of the locker opening and shutting."

"How do you account for String-Doll then?"

"I don't know. I've learned to stop asking questions about certain things. This might be one of those times."

By the time they eventually arrived back to the penthouse, Pilot was in a frenzy, piling up food cans and water bottles, as well as various decorations into a heap in the middle of the room. Snippy and Engie took a seat on the couch and watched him, silently agreeing that they would sort through the pile once he had calmed down rather than risk getting caught in the crossfire.

 _This afternoon wasn't so bad,_ Engie reflected. _Sure, Snippy and I argued a little, and he was annoyed with me in the basement, but I didn't feel like he was behaving with hostility. I guess it helps when you have a common goal._

"So," he spoke up, "how do you feel about how today went?"

"It was a good game. I had fun," said Snippy.

"You know what? So did I. I don't know if I alleviated Pilot's grudge though. I'm still covered in the remnants of his drawing."

Snippy suddenly placed his hand over Engie's. Gromov's breath hitched, his mind clinging to the possibility that Charles was actually trying to console him. Such a huge amount of progress! Although, he would have preferred a hand on his shoulder; this seemed a little… intimate. That is, until Snippy pulled his hand back and Engie realized the sniper had stuck something to the back of his glove. It was a star-shaped sticker with the words "At least you tried!" emblazoned on it.

"Where the hell did you get this?!"

"That is my little secret."

Engie scowled and peeled the sticker off, pressing it firmly to String-Doll's face. However, after a moment of looking at the sad sight, he peeled it back off and bunched it into a small ball, tossing it into a corner of the room.

"Come on, it's dinner time," said Snippy. "We have a 'feast' to prepare for."

"That's so wasteful," Engie commented. "We have a stockpile; we should ration it, not eat it all at once."

"Do you want to try and talk Captain out of it?" Snippy asked, dropping to his knees in front of the pile, silently beckoning the engineer to follow him.

Together, they sorted through what food Pilot had gathered and meticulously chose certain foods over others, attempting to keep the amount to be eaten tonight as minimal as possible while still satisfying the definition of a "feast." The penthouse didn't have tables other than fancy end-tables, but they managed to present the feast as a picnic with a tablecloth on the floor. They weighed down the corners with large, ornate candle holders to prevent the tablecloth from moving too much. Pilot had found some accompanying candles that they had placed inside the holders, but they agreed not to light them. One unfortunate elbow and the entire thing would be scorched. Snippy gathered whatever Pilot hadn't thought to use, wandering from room to room and returning with various items like the silverware, some gaudy jewelry that he piled in the middle to be a centerpiece, and a couple cracked and chipped plates. Once they were done with the setup, it actually didn't look half bad. Pilot pranced to the doorway of Captain's bedroom, apparently already having the knowledge that zee was inside.

"There's one more thing," Snippy spoke. "You can go get it," he gestured to Engie's room.

"What is it?" Engie asked.

"You'll know it when you see it.'

Curious about the surprise but still cautious by nature, Engie carefully stepped into his room, vigilantly looking around before spying what Snippy was talking about. A speck of yellow stood out against a blanket of muted blues and grays, immediately catching his eye. He stepped closer to get a better look at what the object was. A lollipop was placed on his moth-eaten quilt. Engie stooped slightly to pick it up, twirling the stick between his thumb and index finger. The wrapper was faded, but he could still make out the graphic of a smiling lemon.

 _Lemon-flavored, not my favorite, but I won't complain._ As long as it wasn't cherry, which he just now realized was probably the flavor Charles had been enjoying that morning. Too many of his childhood medicines had been cherry-flavored, and now he absolutely detested the stuff. A bubble of happiness settled in his chest as he gently touched the lollipop. Clutching the lemon-flavored treat tightly, he hurried into the common area, where Snippy was standing with Captain and Pilot near the picnic.

"I know you had your heart set on muffins, but you would not believe the hours the bakeries around here have posted," Snippy explained calmly. "None are open on Fridays; can you believe that?"

"Unfortunately, I can," Captain replied. "It always seems nothing is open when you need it."

"They're not muffins, but…" Snippy held out his hands, a lollipop resting in each palm, "I think they'll do nicely."

Pilot squeaked happily and swiped one of the lollipops, clutching the stick tightly in his hand. Captain picked up the other lollipop and twirled it between zeer fingers. After making a small sound of approval, zee placed the candy into the lapel of zeer jacket. All things considered, the day had gone surprisingly well. Despite their view of wasting too much food at once, Snippy and Engie enjoyed the feast. It was a day of peace and calm waters. No stress, no fights, no missions. For once, they were enjoying life, in spite of the hardships.

For the first time since finding out his identity, Snippy didn't care who Engie was.

In fact, Snippy, Engie, and Pilot all stayed awake with each other before the mandated "light's out" from their commanding officer, where in the past, Snippy would have gone to bed the first chance he got. He fell asleep mid-conversation though, and the other two let him be.

"Will his neck be okay?" Engie asked, wincing at the odd angle the sniper was sleeping in.

"It is rubbery like a chicken's," Pilot assured him. "It'll snap back into place."

Engie provided an under-stuffed pillow anyway. At least Snippy's head was slightly more elevated into a normal position, instead of completely sideways on the couch cushions because he had been leaning his shoulder against the couch while sitting on the floor.

"I'm off," Engie stated, walking to his bedroom and shutting the door.

Pilot merely hummed in response. He held String-Doll in his hands and appeared to be contemplating the doll.

"I'm glad you're speaking," he said.

 **"Social anxiety is such a burden to overcome,"** String-Doll replied. **"Please let Snippy know I am thankful for his friendliness in taking me with him, even though I was too shy to speak up. You're all such good friends! I know we'll have fun together."**

Pilot frowned. "Snippy and Engie are not much fun. Snipster complains too much and Engie cries too much. They're about as much fun as a dead fly. And not a dragonfly— those are at least pretty. A big, fat housefly that buzzes around and doesn't leave even though the window's wide open."

**"You're funny! I know lots of jokes. Would you like to hear them?"**

"Not tonight. Captain has ordered us to bed."

**"Okay. Will we play more tomorrow?"**

"Of course, we're on vacation."

**Author's Note:**

> I currently have three other ideas for chapters of this fic and hope to expand it to a total of five. I don't know how long it will take, especially considering that this chapter alone took almost half a year to write, but just be aware that I plan for five chapters, each as lengthy as this one was, or maybe even more. Romantically Apocalyptic needs more fanfictions, and I hope this was wonderful contribution to the fandom.
> 
> If you're wondering what String-Doll looks like, just take a look at the music video for the They Might Be Giants song "Why Does the Sun Shine?" He pretty much looks like those two cat dolls, except I wrote him having a tail.


End file.
